


Sweetness and Nice

by MuddlingAlong



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: But Vanity being cute, F/F, Fluff, More Fluff, Paddy being irritating as hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-22 17:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14313810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuddlingAlong/pseuds/MuddlingAlong
Summary: A day in the life of Charity and Vanessa, specifically, Friday the 13th of April, 2018





	1. Sweetness and Nice

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how we're supposed to cope for a whole week without Vanity, especially after the trauma of this week  
> But here's some fodder
> 
> Let me know if you want me to continue, I kind of want to see what happens on their date tonight...

The peals of electronic squealing reach into Charity’s dreams, assaulting her ears like an electric shock, drilling into her brain, tearing her eyes open. She scrambles over, extricating herself from the tangled clinch they’d fallen asleep in and reaches for her phone, wanting to turn the alarm off before the racket wakes up other blonde who, miraculously, is still snoring gently.

 

She nestles herself back into the pillows, turning to snuggle Vanessa who has rolled away. She knows that Chas really wouldn’t take kindly to her skipping a delivery again, but the only thing she wants to do is stay in this rosy warmth and slowly bring her girlfriend to the day with gentle kisses and whispers. And Vanessa looks so deeply peaceful, chest rising and falling in slumber, blonde strewn across the pillow she’s holding on to so tightly. 

 

Something about the profound relief she is experiencing at the sight of Vanessa wrapped in her sheets makes her stomach clench, unused to feeling so utterly comfortable with someone in her space. Last night the coldness on the other side of the bed had pulled at her, and she’d spent most of the night lying awake, Vanessa’s heartbroken face at the bottom of the stairs playing pinball inside her brain against razor-sharp childhood memories. Which just makes her even more unwilling to leave her now.

 

Reluctantly, Charity settles for resting her forehead against her back for a second and dropping a long soft kiss just behind her ear, before she drags herself into the cold.

 

She doesn’t bother getting dressed, just hurriedly slips on some pyjamas and a dressing gown before sliding out the room, closing the door as quietly as she can so she doesn’t disturb Vanessa, who just pulls the pillow closer and buries her face into it.

 

On the way past the bathroom she hears retching sounds and sighs, making a mental note to check in on Chas later. She frowns at the sight of the clock above the stairs pointing to ten to six and pulls her dressing gown tighter round herself.

 

 

Eddie is unusually funny this morning, and despite the hour, the chill in the air and the fact that they’re down a crate of mixers, she easily trades one liners with him and feels feather-light in her laughter. When Jai and Rishi walk past, their snide comments bounce off her buoyed smile, although her mood dissolves at the sight of the stressed bags under Chas’ eyes. 

 

“What’s up, rough night?”

 

Chas groans, her voice a low rumble, “I don’t know why they call it morning sickness, I’ve been chucking up 24/7,” and heads off down the street.

 

Charity, wishing she could at least say something to help, sighs, “where’re you going?” 

 

“I dunno, Mexico? Anywhere but here,” Chas throws the words over her shoulder, and Charity guesses it’s probably not the best time to enquire about the throwing up she heard this morning.

 

She hurries back inside the pub, eager to warm up and see if Vanessa’s decided to greet the morning. From upstairs, Noah grunts what she assumes is teenage speak for “yes, mum, I am getting ready for school, thank you for being such a caring parent,” at her enquiry as to his whereabouts. 

 

When Vanessa eventually hurries into the front room she’s already made two cups of tea and seen Noah off to school with a kiss on the top of the head that he tried desperately to dodge.

 

“Why didn’t you didn’t wake me?” She looks flustered and stressed, but Charity can tell she’s not actually cross. She knows the nuances of her voice by now.

 

“‘Cause I’ve been up since daft o’clock with the drayman,” she counters, and, sensing the opportunity for a dig, “anyway, you looked very peaceful, attached to that pillow in your puddle of drool.”

 

“Shut up,” Vanessa smiles and Charity’s heart glows a little.

 

“Good job I like you, innit?,” she pulls her face into that cocky expression she knows Vanessa loves but also can’t stand.

 

Vanessa looks her girlfriend up and down appraisingly, and Charity remembers how much this particular dressing gown has been appreciated in the past. “Not changed your mind, then?” Vanessa challenges, and Charity is serious for a second.

 

“I’m not gonna let Bails ruin another second of my life,” she says, moving towards her girlfriend, intent on spending the next few seconds doing something as far removed from Bails as she can imagine. Sneaking her arm behind Vanessa’s neck to press her mouth to her smile, she hums softly into familiar lips, a purr escaping as she feels a hand smooth down to her lower back.

 

“Oh, sorry, again,” they remain pressed together for a second, unwilling to acknowledge Paddy’s voice, before reluctantly pulling away from their little moment of luxury. Charity doesn’t bother hiding her irritation from her face at being interrupted by Paddy Kirk for the umpteenth time. “I was just looking for Chas.”

 

“Er, she went first thing, I thought she’d be coming over to you.”

 

“Unlikely. We’ve had a bit of a bust up.” Charity wants to roll her eyes at him. She likes him well enough, but she can’t help feeling her cousin deserves someone who isn’t blundering from one mishap to the next.

 

“Oh yeah, that would explain why she had a face like a slapped-“

 

“Did she say where she was going?”

 

“She said summat about Mexico? I presumed she was mucking about,” although she’s momentarily concerned that this bust up was more serious and that she should have been more worried Chas’ slapped-arse face this morning.

 

“And you just let her go, did you?”

 

She feels a whir of frustration, “well, what do you want me to do Paddy? I’m not her keeper!” 

 

“We’re supposed to be having a scan today, we’re supposed to be going to the hospital-“

 

Unable to listen to him moan on any longer, she interrupts him, “yes, we all know, Paddy, you’re having a baby. What do you want, a medal?” Quickly feeling guilty, she apologises, “look, I’m sorry Paddy, I’m just saying you know, millions of people do it every day, it’s really not that big of a deal.” He looks crestfallen, and she decides against shaking him hard until his brain kicks into gear and he does something actually useful, and instead tries to offer help, “should I give her a ring?”

 

“No. I’ve already rung her a thousand times, she’s not picking up.” He raises a hand in farewell, tells them to “carry on,” and leaves, presumably to go and bother someone else, Charity thinks.

 

She turns to look at Vanessa, who is raising her eyebrows over her glass of water. “Ugh, he is driving me insane,” she can’t keep the note of real frustration out of her voice and Vanessa rolls her eyes.

 

“You don’t say. You were so kind and supportive just now,” she chastises the taller blonde with her eyes and sets the glass down on the table.

 

“Oh, just because you’re all sweetness and nice don’t mean we all have to be,” Charity counters, but is unwilling to have an argument, or indeed, any bad feeling at all, and concedes to Vanessa’s disapproving look with a roll of the eyes and a sarcastic bow. “That cuppa’s yours, by the way, I was just about to bring it up to you,” she indicates the second mug on the side.

 

Vanessa’s face brightens, “ohh, so you _can_ be sweetness and nice,” she exclaims with mock surprise, moving towards her girlfriend with a flirtatious smile.

 

“Yeah, but only to you, kid,” Charity’s hands slide underneath Vanessa’s two coats, wordlessly wondering why on earth she needs to wear two, but unwilling to actually do any talking.

 

“Wow, Charity Dingle, I’m flattered,” she smiles as she sinks into her girlfriend’s lips, all haste forgotten, despite the fact that she’s probably going to be busy today if Paddy is going to spend the day flapping after Chas. She pulls away and runs her hands over Charity’s silk-covered shoulders, “I love this dressing gown.” 

 

Charity smiles knowingly, a golden feeling in the pit of her stomach, “I know you do, babe,” she hums, and she closes her eyes as Vanessa’s hands sink to the knot holding the material together and begin untying it. She feels her mouth brush against her own again, and moves forward to catch the kiss, cupping her face and stroking her tongue over her bottom lip. Hands slink up over her dressing gown, roaming the expanse of her back and then down lower, squeezing lazily. A hum of approval escapes Charity’s lips and she pulls her closer by the back of her neck so their bodies are flush together, deepening their kiss as Vanessa grants her tongue entry to her mouth.

 

This feeling, this is what she has missed. They were officially “broken up” for only twenty four hours, but Charity had felt each minute like it was a year. Her sense of betrayal at Vanessa’s having gone behind her back was still very real, and she knows that that sinking moment when she said “I had to do something” and the knock on the door will sit with her for a while yet: Vanessa was the only person she had ever trusted to hold those precious glass-spun secrets, and it had felt like she’d smashed them back in her face. But it was impossible not to see how truly sorry she was, especially since her heartfelt apology, which had burrowed its way right down through Charity’s walls. And it was just as impossible to resist this feeling. Vanessa tugs at something so deep and soft within her that no one else has ever reached, and she can’t bear the idea of never seeing her sunny little face pop up over the bar, never eliciting those moans she’s surrendering now, never seeing her yellow coat hung up on the hook next to hers.

 

Just as Charity’s beginning to lose herself to the idea of getting absolutely nothing done this morning and floating back upstairs together for a repeat of last night, Vanessa pulls away, removes her hands from underneath the silk dressing gown where they had wandered teasingly and, to a whine of frustration from the taller, lifts herself onto tip toes to drop a kiss on her forehead.

 

“I’ve got to get to work, babe,” she sighs and turns to down the cup of tea so lovingly brewed by her sweetness-and-nice girlfriend.

 

Charity, unwilling to accept that her morning was about to get a whole lot less interesting, circles Vanessa’s waist from behind, smoothing circles over her belly and waist and kissing the side of her neck, fussing, “Ne-ess, pleease, come back to bed with me.” Vanessa puts down her tea and tips her head back over Charity’s shoulder.

 

“Charity, believe me, there’s nothing I’d love more,” she giggles as teeth nibble at her ear, “but I’ve got to go open up,” and she oh-so reluctantly pulls away again.

 

A childishly sulky expression pulls over Charity’s face as she sticks out her bottom lip, “well, if you’d rather stick your hands up a cow’s backside than spend some consensual adult time with me…”

 

“It’s surgery, so it’s going to be hamsters and rabbits, not cows,” Vanessa quips, zipping her coat up.

 

“You’re going to stick you hand up a _rabbit_ ’s backside?!” She feigns shocked horror and holds a hand to heart.

 

Vanessa lets out a laugh and rolls her eyes, “yes Charity, that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” she slips her bag over her head and kisses her girlfriend, lingering longer than she probably should, given the time, but she’s not going to be able to do this for hours. When they break apart, her question is hesitant, almost shy, “do you fancy, er, maybe going out tonight? Like, for dinner or something?”

 

This is met with an instantaneous warm smile which reveals all of Charity’s feelings, “Vanessa Elizabeth Woodfield, are you asking me out on a date?”

 

She replies through a bashful grin, “maybe.”

 

Charity cocks her head and pretends to consider the offer for a second, but chooses this moment to be serious, “I’d love to, babe,” and gives her girlfriend one last chaste kiss. “See you tonight,” she murmurs into her lips.

 

With a sad little sigh, she watches Vanessa disappear behind the door and leans back against the countertop to finish her cup of tea, mouth still alive with feeling. _The rest of the day had better fly by_ , she thinks, _if I’ve got this to look forward to_ , making a mental note to remind Ross that he was supposed to have Moses tonight.

 

She can’t help but smile to herself at the thought of Vanessa turning up with her two coats and a bunch of flowers ready to take her out to dinner. There’s a youthful excitement tingling round her stomach that she hasn’t felt for years at the prospect of a romantic evening. Her whole body is thrumming with a warm glow, a warm glow that is beginning to be a constant when in the presence of one certain tiny, blonde, rocket woman. A warm glow that she could definitely get used to.


	2. Clumsy Stumbling Clichéd Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is quite different from the last, there's switching between Charity and Vanessa's POV and I really wasn't that sure about writing the date scene because we've never had a scene like that, but I am desperately trying to avoid my life so here you go...
> 
> Basically date fluff and Vanity not telling each other that they love each other even though they so OBVIOUSLY do
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you if you have left a comment, it gives me ever such a warm rosy glow  
> All the love

“Hey,” Vanessa is unable to keep the crack of lust out of her voice at the sight of Charity entering the pub from behind the bar. She’s wearing her black zip-up shirt that’s pulled down ever so slightly lower than normal, skin tight black jeans and a leather jacket. Something about Charity Dingle in all black makes Vanessa feel grateful she’s sat down, sure that her legs wouldn’t support her otherwise.

 

“Hey, yourself,” Charity is using that sarcastic-seductive tone as she slinks from behind the bar, and her jade eyes have an intense glint, looking her girlfriend up and down in a way that makes Vanessa feel like she must be completely naked, despite knowing she spent ages deciding on this dress-jacket-shoes combination. 

 

She swallows, “you’re late,” Vanessa chastises, only half-serious. It’s hard to be cross with Charity when she’s mentally undressing you.

 

The taller blonde presses her lips together apologetically. “Sorry, babe, Moses took forever to get to sleep.” She reaches Vanessa, leans into her where she’s sat at the bar and kisses her softly on the cheek, just next to her lips, placing a steady hand on Vanessa’s upper thigh.

 

“You look amazing,” Vanessa is almost whispering, aware that Chas and Marlon are behind the bar, trying and failing to look like they’re talking about the menu instead of analysing every aspect of this interaction.

 

Charity smiles, lips together, and whispers back, “not so bad yourself,” she rubs her thumb over Vanessa’s leg just under the fabric of her dress, “scrub up alright, don’t you? I like this dress.”

 

“What, this old thing?” She tries to sound bright and breezy, but the combination of her proximity to those two moles on Charity’s chest leading suggestively downwards, her familiar scent - somehow more potent this evening, and that hand on her upper thigh make her words sound just a fraction too high to be completely natural.

 

Charity, ever infuriatingly aware of the slightest changes in Vanessa’s voice, smirks. “Come on then, buttercup, the taxi man’s probably been waiting ages,”

 

“Yeah, and whose fault’s that?” 

 

Charity sighs exasperatedly, “oh, it’s not my fault that Moses got scared about bats again and he wouldn’t go to sleep for flamin’ ages. He’s literally just this second fallen asleep, I had to read him Katie and the Smallest Bear about twenty-five times,” Vanessa practically swoons at the image of Charity with Moses tucked into the crook of her arm, reading him his favourite book until his little eyes flutter closed.

 

“Bless his little heart, I forgot he were scared of bats,”

 

Charity rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling, “oh, if only we all could, maybe then I could actually leave the house from time to time. Speaking of which…” she trails off, brushing her hand against Vanessa’s and then snaking their fingers together, “shall we uh, head off?" 

 

Vanessa swears she can hear a note of girlish excitement in her voice. “Bye, Chas, Marlon,” she calls out as she hops off the bar stool, threading her fingers more securely through Charity’s. They’ve never held hands before, and she feels like a giddy fourteen year old again, back when holding hands was tantamount to French kissing. Though, she supposes, with Charity Dingle, holding hands is practically a proposal.

 

“Good luck, Vanessa,” replies Chas, to which Charity throws a dirty look over her shoulder before following her girlfriend through the doors.

 

***

 

If she’s being honest, it’s fairly tricky, trying to concentrate on what Vanessa’s saying when she’s wearing that dress with the sheer see-through patch at the top. When it’s a toss up between listening to her bang on about the minute details of the various computer systems at the vets, or trying to figure out which bra she can definitely see the top of through her dress, Charity’s not spending much time deliberating.

 

“And she said, right, get this, she said it was my fault! Can you bloody believe that? The cheek of her!” It’s not the black t shirt bra, because it’s got lace on the cups. But then Charity knows that of the two black lace bras that Vanessa owns, one of them is definitely no longer fit for use after a particularly heated moment involving some impatient ripping, and the other is still in Charity’s wash basket from the night before. “I mean, I’ve been working the computers for what, a week? And al _ready_ I have more of an idea of how it works than she does! And now she’s got Paddy thinking that I’m incompetent, too!” Maybe it is the t shirt bra, maybe it’s the flickery candle light that makes it look like it’s lacy. But no, that can’t be right, because that dips way lower than the collar of the dress, and she can see a substantial amount of bra peeking over the hem. “There’s just not enough room in that place for the two of- Charity are you listening to me?”

 

Vanessa actually has to nudge Charity’s foot to get her attention. “What? Oh, sorry, babe, I was just-”

 

“Ogling me? Yeah I got that, you were practically drooling,” Vanessa’s voice is reproachful, but Charity knows there’s a hint of a flattered smile behind the indignation. “God, you’re like a horny teenage boy.”

 

“You’re not normally complaining,” she counters, narrowing her eyes and smiling that sexy smile, trying to dissolve her girlfriend’s irritation. “No seriously, babe, I am sorry, what was it you were saying? Paddy and Pearl are having a sordid affair?” She smirks into her glass of wine as she drains it.

 

Vanessa can’t help but giggle at the idea, and rolls her eyes. It strikes Charity, not for the first time, how beautiful Vanessa is. Not sexy, although she’s definitely that, but- genuinely beautiful. It’s hard to believe that she hadn’t noticed it for five years, that defined bone structure, the soft flush of her cheeks, the glittering blue of her eyes. “Yeah, it’s basically Sex and the City over there right now. No, I was just saying how I can’t stand being there much longer, or there’s going to be bloodshed.” She sees Charity opening her mouth, knows instantly what she’s going to say and interrupts before she hears the wisecrack, “and it won’t be the animals.”

 

Charity smirks and moves to refill both their wine glasses, emptying the bottle, “well, you don’t have to stay. You could come work some shifts for me, like I said,” she replies, and she can’t quite keep the keenness out of her voice.

 

“As if that’s not a ploy to order me about and sneak into the cellar for a quickie whenever Chas is looking the other way,” Vanessa dismisses, and on seeing some of Charity’s salmon left abandoned on her plate, asks “are you going to finish that?”

 

“What? Oh, no, have it,” Charity passes Vanessa the plate, careful to avoid dangling her floaty sleeves in the naked flame. “Yeah, well, would that be so bad? Rebecca wouldn’t be that hard to fob off, and we could spend more time together…” She bites her bottom lip as she rubs the inside of her girlfriend’s calf with the toe of her shoe.

 

Vanessa’s face can’t choose between an eye-rolling grimace and an enamoured smile, and settles instead for a forkful of salmon. “Babe, it would be a bloody disaster, and you know it.”

 

“What, can’t you control yourself round me? I’d have thought you’d be a good little employee,” Charity teases, enjoying watching the smaller blonde’s flushed features squirm.

 

Vanessa puts down her fork, takes a sip of wine and looks her straight in the eyes. “We both know that my good behaviour won’t last half an hour if we have to work together.” 

 

“Yeah, ok, fair enough. I suppose I can’t help it if I’m unfairly sexy and irresistible,” she quips, leaning her head in, echoing the memorable occasion when that black lace bra was proving a little too tricky to undo, until Charity had permanently fixed the problem.

 

“No, I didn’t mean that, you’ve got a one track bloody mind, you have. I meant I’d end up lamping you, you moody cow. We’d be on each others’ toes all day and we’d get sick of one another,” she sounds pissed off, but she softens as Charity feigns shocked upset. “And- I don’t want to get sick of you,” she almost whispers through a smile, eyes crinkling.

 

Charity practically beams back and they hold deep eye contact, speaking without words, not even noticing as the waiter chooses that particular moment to take away their plates. Oh, how quickly and easily she lost herself in those eyes.

 

Part of her wants to tell her, say it, _I love you_ , but she knows that she can tell her that later. She won’t use clumsy stumbling clichéd words. She’ll soothe quiet kisses into her swollen lips, and brush languid grazes over her flushed, trembling skin, and be a solid embrace for her to fall into at the end.

 

For now, she settles for “I don’t want to get sick of you, either.” Which is met with a gloriously sunny smile.

 

***

 

Vanessa pauses after the waiter leaves with his money, watching Charity, who’s looking down at her phone as she replies to a text message from Noah. The soft curls fall delicately either side of her furrowed forehead, and Vanessa just watches her, runs her eyes over the ebbs and flows of her face that are becoming so deliciously familiar.

 

She knows now, that they’re both in this too deep. They both hold enough power to cause each other real, deep hurt. She knew from early on that a single word from Charity could tear her down more than anyone else could, but she hadn’t been sure, until last week, that it’s the same for Charity, too. She can feel it, now, in the way her eyes don’t need to be on Vanessa to know what she’s doing. She can feel it in the depth of her cries when she’s close to the edge, how they are dragged up from somewhere deep and raw and shadowless. She can feel it when she nestles closer in her sleep, when dreamy hands seek her skin in the dark, desperate to be held.  
She felt it when Charity was sobbing into her arm, sure that those tears had been buried for eternities. 

 

“Is that a new bra?” Her voice seems to float over the table, interrupting Vanessa’s thought process almost laughably inappropriately. 

 

“What? Oh, yeah,” she smiles coyly, “well since _someone_ doesn’t know how bra clasps work…”

 

She almost shrieks in indignation, “Vanessa! I do know how to-” she lowers her voice hastily on remembering where they are, “-open your bra.”

 

“Well, if you could start using the more conventional, really the more convenient way, I would be very grateful. Else I’m going to have to invoice you for the next one,” she says in her high-and-mighty voice.

 

“Well, you weren’t complaining the other day, were you? No, I seem to remember you definitely weren’t complaining,” Charity’s voice is dripping with flirtation, and she can tell Vanessa’s almost lost for words, a scenario that happens infrequently enough to still be absolutely delicious.

 

She lets a moment pass, basking in the glow of Charity’s eyes on hers, of the delicious feeling of having spent an evening doing what other couples do, eating fancy food and drinking fancy wine and catching each others’ eyes over candles, catching each others’ feet under the table.

 

“This has been- really lovely,” Charity says quietly, and blushes slightly, something Vanessa’s not sure she’s ever seen her do, apart from in private moments.

 

“Me, too,” Vanessa matches her tone, sure that this is the most tender, fragile, beautiful thing she has ever experienced.

 

“Shall we go home? I want to see this new bra of yours,” Charity whispers, and, on seeing raised eyebrows, adds “and, since I know how expensive bras are, I shall remove it using the clasp, very respectfully and with great care not to damage it.”

 

Vanessa laughs, “oh, Charity, that’s easily the least sexy thing you’ve ever said,” and puts on her coat.

 

Charity smirks and goes to pull on her own jacket, responding just a bit more loudly than Vanessa is comfortable with, “oh? Well, you never said anything about not ripping any other items of clothing…” 

 

Suddenly aware of how warm she is, Vanessa fixes Charity with a glare, trying at once to communicate how amused, mildly irritated, and hopelessly turned on she is all at the same time.

 

It seems to succeed, as Charity buttons up her coat with a knowing smile, slides her bag over her shoulder and slips her warm hand into Vanessa’s, squeezing gently. “Come on, you,” she hums, and leads them out the restaurant.

 

Vanessa could tell her, right now, she could tell Charity she loves her. It would be so easy. The words would just slide off her tongue like honey. _I love you._ But she doesn’t.

 

Tonight, though, she will. She won’t use clumsy stumbling clichéd words. She’ll knot them together, hands tangled through hair, limbs tangled through limbs, tied together so close they can hear each others’ heartbeats. She’ll drag kisses across her belly when she’s tumbled to pieces, paying close attention to the silvery lines at her hips, letting her breathing slow back down to steady before she stops.  
And, when those dreamy hands seek her skin in the afterglow, she’ll let herself be pulled close, holding on just as tightly in return.


End file.
